


Saturn

by meoqie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Up to post-S7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 09:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meoqie/pseuds/meoqie
Summary: For Keith, Shiro has come back from the dead twice. It's time to be done mourning. He's going to extract every miracle the universe is willing to give to him.





	Saturn

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand thanks to [Natalie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwonder/profile) as always, for being my ever-faithful beta.

After so many months back on earth, Keith was still unused to the quiet. There was no constant hum of engines, no hiss of oxygen recycling. Just the deep, hollow silence that came with a vast open atmosphere. Even the isolation of the quantum abyss hadn’t been quiet like this. The current stillness of the Garrison at night felt more like the desert had, that year Keith spent entirely alone. It clashed with the familiar gray walls of the facility. Back when Keith had been a student it was never quite this silent, even after lights out. The ghosts in the halls were almost tangible.

He sighed, straightening out the jacket he’d just removed and placed back on a hanger. The stiff gray fabric wasn’t wrinkled, but he smoothed it anyway. He wondered how long it would take him to get used to wearing it. His dream of officer gray had died a long time ago. Resurrection was becoming a theme for him. He was skirting messiah territory.

The surreality of the morning’s ceremony still hung over him like a shroud. Past and present layered over each other imperfectly, like a cheap 3D film.

In the hush of the sleeping building, Keith heard footsteps long before a blue glow in the darkness of his doorway announced Shiro’s presence.

“Hey,” Shiro greeted quietly.

“Hey,” Keith replied, turning his head to hide a smile.

He’d left his door open in the hopes that Shiro would come by. Patience, it seemed, yielded more than just focus.

Shiro approached, coming to stand beside him as he looked up at Keith’s new jacket.

“I never expected to still be around to get to see you in that,” he admitted quietly. “I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am.”

The hand that landed on Keith’s shoulder was hesitant, like that wasn’t what Shiro really intended to do.

“It feels weird,” Keith said, turning back to the jacket. “Like I’m in an alternate reality.”

“Please don’t use that particular phrase.”

Keith huffed out a soft laugh.

“Being back here in general feels weird,” Shiro said, dropping his hand. Keith’s shoulder mourned the loss of contact. “It’s like when you go back to the street you grew up on, but everything is just different enough to clash with the familiarity.”

Keith nodded. He didn’t have experience with that specific phenomenon, but he understood what Shiro meant anyway.

“I wonder if my place is still standing,” Keith mused, Shiro’s words calling up the image of the small shack in the desert.

“We could go find out.”

 

\-------

 

Keith let Shiro drive the AW-Cruiser as they left the dimly lit compound and headed into the darkness of the desert. Windows open, they didn’t speak as the cool night air surrounded them. Keith leaned his head against the door, staring up at the sky. Automatically, he catalogued the visible constellations. Perseus, Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Pegasus, Pisces. As beautiful as the endless starfield of space had been, there was something wonderfully grounding about being limited by the edges of the horizon.

He had universes in his heart but the desert was in his bones. He no longer felt like those two things were at odds with one another. Keith rolled his head to the side, looking at Shiro’s profile. Peace. He was at peace.

So many things were different from how they used to be.

But some important things had stayed the same.

Shiro caught him staring and gave him a small smile. Keith smiled back and sat up, scanning the craggy expanse for the familiar shape of the rundown shack. It was very likely that it had been obliterated in the Galra attack, but there was a chance that the desolate location remained untouched.

“There,” he said as his eyes snagged on an inorganic outline in the emptiness.

Bright headlights flashed over the sagging porch as Shiro brought the cruiser to a halt; the support beams even more worn down since he’d left. But the place was still standing, and a ribbon of bittersweet nostalgia wrapped around Keith’s chest and squeezed. This was the closest thing Keith ever had to a home, but it was tied to so many painful memories.

“Hey.”

Shiro’s voice was quiet, grounding, accompanied by a light touch to his knee. Keith let out a ragged breath, belatedly realizing he was on the edge of hyperventilating.

“Do you want to leave?”

Keith shook his head, composing himself.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay. I think I need to be here. Bring things full circle, or something.”

Shiro nodded, understanding.

“Thanks. For coming with me. I don’t think I could have come here alone.”

Altean-powered metal was warm even through the fabric of Keith’s shirt as Shiro gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Always, Keith. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I’m here for you whenever you need me.” Shiro smiled crookedly. “Hell, even when it’s _not_ in my power to stick around, you’ll somehow be there to save my ass. You’ve made me a hard man to get rid of.”

“As many times as it takes,” Keith said, feeling soft.

Shiro’s eyes searched his face in the dim light, and Keith’s heart stuttered in his chest. But then Shiro pulled his gaze away and dropped his hand, leaving Keith once again disappointed and bereft.

There was still one barrier between them they couldn’t seem to be able to cross. It was a chasm as wide and deep as the Grand Canyon and Keith felt it like a toothache. Usually just a dull pain, but sometimes, like now, it was agony. He pushed it down, like always.

Was it that Shiro was unwilling to close that space? Had Keith given him the wrong impression?

‘You’re my brother’ echoed mockingly in Keith’s head.

They climbed out of the cruiser, leaving the headlights on to illuminate the shack enough to navigate. The porch steps creaked ominously beneath their weight, but held.

Everything was exactly the way they’d left it, with the addition of a thick layer of dust. Keith’s eyes trailed over the sunbleached papers and photos pinned to the wall, chronicling his unwitting search for the blue lion. The ink on his notes had completely vanished, erasing evidence of all those hopeless thoughts he’d needed to get out of his head so they’d stop eating him up.

“Our origin story,” Shiro joked gently, seeing Keith trace the map of the canyon with his eyes. “Remember how bad Lance was at flying the blue lion originally?”

A corner of Keith’s mouth quirked up in amusement. “And how Hunk used to throw up all the time?”

Shiro stepped into Keith’s space, standing beside him as they looked around the small room.

“Sometimes I think that everything is just… haphazard.” Keith faltered as he tried to find the words. “I’ve never believed in fate, or destiny, or whatever. Why us, out of the countless lives in the galaxy? But then I think of how all the pieces lined up, and how different everything would be without Voltron. Maybe it wasn’t destiny, but things worked out the way they were supposed to. We lost things, but we gained things too.”

Shiro hummed softly, looking down at his arm. Cheating death always came with a price.

“Maybe there’s some kind of cosmic balance in this universe after all,” Keith finished.

“I’ve always believed in the concept of fate, actually,” Shiro admitted with a small smile. “That everything happens for a reason. It’s what kept me going when things felt hopeless. And now here I am. Alive when I shouldn’t be, and that’s not even the most impossible thing I’ve accomplished. That _we_ have accomplished. We’re friends with a magical alien princess, Keith. Doesn’t that feel kind of cinematic to you?”

Keith smiled at that. “Maybe someday they’ll make a movie about us.”

Shiro snorted. “We should write our biographies before Lance sells the screenplay where he’s the hero.”

Keith laughed. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to see the Hollywood version of myself, especially not my younger self.”

Still smiling, he walked farther into the shack, disturbing dust with every step. The person who lived here was not who he was now. From this place and grief and loneliness, he’d grown into resilience. Keith pushed open the back door with a loud groan of rusted hinges to see a familiar shape covered in heavy cloth.

How many miracles was he willing to bet on tonight?

Stepping back out into the cool night air, he grabbed two solid handfuls of rough canvas and tugged. The hoverbike looked relatively untouched by the elements, just a bit more rusted underneath.

“You think it still runs?” Shiro asked, appearing beside him.

“Let’s find out.”

Luck was really favoring Keith it seemed, because after an initial splutter, the bike hummed to life. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning, elated. This was one piece of his past he’d been heartbroken to leave behind, the one thing that was heavy with good memories rather than pain.

“Wanna take it for spin?” he called to Shiro over the sound of the engine.

“We can’t,” Shiro shouted back.

“What? Why?”

“We don’t have our protective goggles!”

Keith scowled and Shiro broke his straight face, laughing helplessly as Keith called him an asshole.

“You’re the absolute worst,” he grumbled as Shiro climbed on behind him.

“I know,” Shiro said cheerfully, and Keith revved the hoverbike.

Shiro’s warm frame solid against his back, Keith expertly turned the bike out towards the open desert.

It was a route they’d taken dozens of times before, but never together on the same bike, not like this anyway. Keith tried not to think about the countless times he’d imagined this exact scenario. Some things were a little different from his former fantasies - Shiro’s metal arm, the fact that he wasn’t nearly so short anymore. But the way it made his heart ache hadn’t changed.

He was sick of hurting. It had been more than long enough. He was done mourning.

There was no hesitation in Keith’s actions as the edge of a familiar cliff appeared. Shiro’s grip tightened slightly, anticipating the jump. They soared.

He’d experienced g-forces and the zero-g of space. Nothing made him feel quite so weightless and exhilarated as this. Keith realized he was laughing, unable to contain the pure delight that pulsed through him in that moment.

“Nice jump,” Shiro said as Keith brought the bike to a halt at the bottom.

“You should have seen me when I managed it with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge on board,” Keith bragged casually.

He cut the engine, and they were left in the silence of the night.

Shiro didn’t pull away from his position. Keith carefully leaned back against his broad chest. Shiro slotted his chin over his shoulder. Keith could feel his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Look.”

Keith followed Shiro’s flesh hand, pointing upward at a bright spot on the horizon.

“Saturn,” Keith identified. “Or temporary lion parking in case of Galra invasion.”

Shiro chuckled, and Keith felt the vibrations of it. “Awfully blasé about celestial bodies these days, aren’t we?”

“Sometimes. But sometimes I’m still in awe of the majesty of the universe. What about you?”

Shiro made a sound of agreement. “It was my first love, and that’s something you never forget.”

Keith laughed at that, quiet and dry. “Yeah, I guess you don’t.” He shifted, turning so he could face Shiro. “You were mine.”

“I know.”

“That hasn’t changed. Shiro-”

Keith was cut off by Shiro pressing their lips together, gentle and tender. He could have cried with the relief, all the tension of the past years easing at once. He tilted his head, cupping the side of Shiro’s face with one hand.

Neither of them were particularly eager to break the contact, trading soft kisses and hushed sighs. Finally Shiro pulled away, leaning their foreheads together.

“I love you too, Keith. I’m sorry that-- no. Thank you. For waiting so long.”

“Takashi.” The name was unfamiliar on his tongue, but Keith could tell from Shiro’s face that it was the right thing to say. “I would have waited forever.”


End file.
